so"U"l rules over the m"I"nd....

Fighting a lost cause ...keep on loosing ...win the fight...

I had it.Enough!!!I given in .I throw in the towel.I am ready to kick the bucket.

But what made me look at the world in such technicolor of  frustration,disappointment,anger and disgust ...? probably my own self...

When i look around ,my mind ,disapproving,tells me that the world is full of gross injustice.I try to justify this claim, of my brain by taking my example,ie the easiest way out to relive yourself out of misery ...to assume yourself in neck deep muck..it surely cant get worse than that,can it??? ...

                 Then i see a ray of hope that will make the pain go away ..But the ray just passes me as if i am an apparition.The colorful mirage of the waxing and waning fortunes that the life postulates is all but an well disguised prevarication.The life always takes a dip down the drains and specially when the life guard is not around.The locus of my thinking tells me that thinking about yourself if like taking a bow and arrow,fitting the arrow on the bow and firing it...hold on ..u cant see where you are firing ...neither is there any target to take down...But still you fire that salvo ..The thoughts about one existence burdens the mind...if at all we were ignorant about ourself ..if at all we only knew others..But alas...much often ..the Syllable "I" creeps in our thoughts and  rotates itself to become an "H" that signifies Help.

                           When you are winning a thing, never the thought crosses ones mind that actually you are defeating someone.And the self-gratification continues...you stamp your authority ..you take the charge ...you are motivated,excited,exalted...and what not..not a sliver of thought crosses your mind that the figure with a pointed tail,three pronged fiery weapon and two protruding summits on its head is lurking ...

                And then you are in dismay ...the world is falling over ..the ground is shaking ..your feet cant support themselves..you are disoriented ,disillusioned ...feeling of regurgitating food comes to your mind....a strange desire of having hundreds of pointed objects pierce your filthy and nauseating odour-smeared body suddenly flashes across your neural network..let the pain cease ..let the suffering vanish..let the anguish dissolve...Your entire world is in convulsions,you are feeling unjustly targeted,feeling like that goat to be butchered,feeling like that dodo already extinct,feeling like you have been "satan"esqued..

        Why ?...its the only question i ask...why we have this notion about ourself ...why we think that all apart from us have a side role and we are the main protagonist who have a special purpose to fill ...why our notion of "I" comes in our way to care for "U" ? Why our principles are jagged like the "I" rather than the accomodating curved like of "U" ?

                        The worldly pursuits drive us.All of us are in frenzy,are running a race without a finish line in sight..the goal lures us ..the line recedes away from us as we approach it...the great illusion ....the mythical mirage.It leaves a bad taste in your mouth ...to be ordinary ..to be common...to be natural...no one wants to have their first photo in paper in the Remembrances section...Everyone wants to do a fosbury flip ....

                       Are we happy ? when are we actually happy? brooding over this question ,i got only one answer..when we are praised.When we are appreciated, when we get the accolades ...we celebrate ..but are the celebrations limited to our own self ...NO...The reason as well as the effect of our praise is centrifugal in nature... We merely are a receptor of these good thoughts and we pass them on..But when we start loosing ..we crib ..and these negative thoughts are centripetal in nature ...we store them...we let them fester in our already blackened hearts ...we tarnish our soul..

                                    So what one should do...i think the only answer is to think yourself as a soul and bereft of any demands of this world yet to be able to generate praise ..for self or for others ...one should work..

But work like a bird ...free ....rising ...exploring new heights of wisdom and achievements ...treading new paths ...visiting new and unfound places in your heart...Care..for others ...for yourself....and you will see it ..the light at the end of tunnel...

       "You" are the answer ,not "I" ....

                                           BELIEVE.....  

          

"CRICKET=Sachin tendulkar...hence proved!!!"

Sachiiiin...sachin...sachiiiin ...sachin...sachiiiin...sachin..

And the chant goes on.And he plays on.21 years...Still playing,winning hearts,bringing glory,tearing opposition apart,tonking fours and sixes,making the streets look as if they have a curfew,this special boy(at heart) from mumbai is none other than the "little in strature,big on heart" Mr Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.
Its like i have grown with him,watching him play,rejoicing when he(and if thats the case,more often than not,the team) does well,cursing when he fails,keeping his records for him(not possible now,the numbers are too huge and the records piling),feeling proud of the man when an honour is bestowed upon him etc.Like me,he has touched the life and times of many worldmen(great people arent property of one nation),has inspired many toddlers to risk a muscle strain in picking up that extra heavy bat,has lead to a tremendous loss to the exchequer by having all people not working but watching him play instead,has set the adrenaline pumping by his deft touches and equally brute force.Imagine the game of cricket without a certain little master!!!
        

 Several times it has been recounted how he scored a duck in his first ODI innnings and how he staved off a bloody blow to his nose and chose to continue to bat in one of the tests.The fabled story now immortalised was just the start of many more such accounts of sheer courage,determination,and willpower.Many a times this 5`5 foot tall gentlemen has stood tall to scale insurmountable summits,many a times batting with pain he has batted as if the pain was the drug he needed to play on,many a times he has made seemingly gargauntan tasks look like innocuous.And the best part of all this is that he has done all this with the utmost decency,modesty,humility and thus has become a sports icon to look upto.Pointing at a flaw in this gentlemen`s attitude and his passion notwithstanding his strature as one of the most fair players the game of cricket has ever seen is like finding a needle from a haystack.
                            

The way he has decimated the opposition over the years in the most mercurial fashion,the way he has transformed the record books into his own biography,the way he has made the game of cricket into a game that captures the imagination of the young and the old is the same way that this great son of india leads his normal life.Immortality comes to him naturally.
All the accolades accrued to this so called "thorn in the flesh" of the bowlers the world over are nothing but the results of the dedication,passion and unmatched pride for playing for one`s nation.When he scored that gritty and unshakable half century against pakistan in his first series,people knew that something special was lurking behind the innocuous facade of this 16 years 205 days old chubby boy.And when he scored that marvellous first test century vs england at old trafford,the talent had  finnaly arrived.The boy now firmly in the vision of the cricket fraternity as one of the young shining stars,alongside a certain carribean genius to be ,proved his mettle beyond his age when he scored that sensational century against the aussies at the tearing fast wicket of Perth.The boy had really arrived!!!

                

 Records tumbled ,bowlers`s hair line receded ,crowds swelled in the grounds as this little master started mayhem.After the tests it was the turn of the one dayers.After waiting for about 72 matches ,he scored his first ton.But his destructive prowess at the top of the lineup was a legend even before that.The ODI world cup in 1996 proved to be a showcase of his immeasurable talent.The tournament tough a dud for india,took sachin to new echelons.Still owen young, this curly haired genius from the back alleys of dadar was now a senior and un-severable member of the indian cricket mix.The english season in 1996-97 which also saw two modern day greats in sourav ganguly and rahul dravid donn the indian blue test cap for the first time,was abuzz with the talent of this man from mumbai.
Next monumental period in sachins career came in the year 1998.In line were the aussies who were tryin to tame the subcontinet elephant but were caught unawares by this lion from the indian den.Shane warne nightmared,sachin sweep slogged;mark taylor bowed head,sachin raised his bat.After trouncing the aussies in the tests,sachin showed his class in the sharjah tournament where once again he proved to be juggernaut for the men from down under.      
                                   With the aussies again visiting india in 2001 ,this time with 16 test wins in a row,they were again stalled by sachin`s century in the chennai test.Remembering Chennai,who can forget the tale of sachin crying after failing to bring india home against pakistan after scoring 136 and India felling agonizingly 17 runs short of a famous win over its arch rivals.
The year:2003 ,another world cup ,another scintillating performance by Sachin.
These mention of great innings cannot be complete without the mention of sachin`s 241 against australia at SCG or his truly majestic 169 against South Africa in one of the leanest summers for indian team.Such Innings by him are aplenty.But as the saying goes, where resides the genius the brickbats follow.
                               The Tennis elbow....the term now immortalised as something that rendered sachin powerless, a lion without tooth & claws, a task hitherto thought impossible by normal events.The performance faded ,so did the people`s memory,they started criticizing the player ,his technique,his temperament,his attitude(that was by greg chappell,cant believe he said it!),his longevity(manjrekar,kapil dev,ian chappell suggesting he take retirement),his failed ability to lead( only blot in otherwise a spotless career),his ability to score runs quickly and what not.They said that the old sachin was gone..was thing of the past...was a shadow of his previous self...was being now unwillingly towed by the team as a inanimate log.The criticism escalated to burning of effigies,stone pelting,criticism related to his other financial commitments...but the worse of them all and undoubtedly the one where sachin would have felt the needle was the booing he got from his home ground crowd at wankhede.

                                   The elevation of other players like sehwag,ponting also paled the old veteran in all eyes.The genius was forgotten,the crowd called for the head of their hero....
But as Michael Holding says on TV in his famous carribean accent "Form is temporary,class is permanent"...Sachin roared back...Ala re ..sachin ala re..
The spectre of failure got dissolved in the bright light of hope.The Ghost was back from the shadows to haunt the bowlers the world over.Scoring the only 200 in one day cricket is testimony to the qualities that the man possess to keep changing himself,his ablility to adapt.
          

Then came the IPL...the 2010 edition brought to the fore the short version of genius.The fickle format of 20-20 also gave in to sheer class and masterful strokeplay of sachin.His trademark check straight drives(on and off),flowing cover  drives,Ferocious cuts and pulls,elegant flicks on the legside,backfoot punch of good length balls,improvised paddle sweeps ,towering sixes...all were on display.The audience were captivated,although he couldn`t take his team all the way,he reminded s that this 37 years he still is a force to reckon with.
                    In many ways sachin tendulkar has been a talisman for indian cricket.Cricket and sachin enjoys a relationship as spice to curry,butter to parantha,romance to relationship,pureness to gold,common sense to intellect.He brings that fervour to the table...so much so that wasim akram quaked to abdur razzak once.."tujhe pata hai tune kiska catch chhoda hai "...so much so that glenn mcgrath appeals for a shoulder before wicket to get him back to pavillion...so much so that he is akin to god in cricket...The comparisons with sir donald bradman is just a eulogy to the aussie great.

        Who had known at the time when sachin and kambli were involved in that then world record partnership that this fragile looking boy would go on to make the bowlers chew their nails,scratch their heads,legends of the game sing paeans and become the prized scalp for cricket lovers the world over.Tweeter introduced,he became a rage there also ,garnering 70000 followers in jut 2-3 hours.

Anil kumble on track to pick up all 10 wickets in a test match hands his cap between overs to sachin...for luck..we are extremely lucky that a certain Dennis Lillee suggested sachin to throw away the red cherry and pick up the wooden slab in his formative years ,otherwise we would have been deprived to see the greatest show of cricket on earth and would have  missed the incarnation of GOD himself....


1 fan to other during a tight match :::
 "arre ..abhi to bahut ran banane hai yaar ...india haar jaayegi shayad ..."

other says with pride and confidence....
"chinta mat kar ...abhi sachin baaki hai .."

The Sage Within...

Mother.Maa.Aai.Amma.Mom.....

Some adjectives and synonyms of god ...the good thing is that these names are free of any religion ,strife and politics..sheer love...
Mom ...happy mothers day...u r the best

The eternal ally of any kid ,the profound peace giver,the incessant supplier of love...The one person in my life who is the last word in love and divinity is my loving mother.Today on the occassion of mothers day ,when i write this,i fell short of words,i feel that the person i want to write about is both the means and the end herself.As i write about my mother i feel the urge to mention the sacrifices she has done for us,the love she has showered upon us(me and my brother) and many things but is it not true that i might choose to just call out her name aloud or think of her benign face and eureka! the love and affection starts flowing like a stream that has no beginning and no end.
                     Everything seems so sublime about the word "mother".The emotions that secrete themselves from the heart are not something alien.They are but the parts of my mother.Because my mother and i are one.I feel that she is i and i am her.How often i feel unnerved when she is upset and when she rejoices i feel exalted.Mother transcends the normal norms,she opens up gates of unbridled joy and affection,she is the walking brochure of god`s intent.
                                The light caress upon my hair when i had a bad dream,the concern when i am hurt,the nervousness of my results(more than me),the sheer frenzy and nerves when i am running fever,the euphoria when i succeed,the bloodshot eyes still up in my wait.....she cares...
The silky touch that is a panacea,the angelic voice that makes the fairies come alive,the eyes that search any signs of underfeeding when i come home aft holidays,the mellowed down anger that isnt anger atall,the sheer bliss of a laughter....these are all of those characteristics that by which my mother resides within me all the time.

                             Sometimes i wonder if she has a magic wand or she has a brain that is programmed to work that way or has a heart that doesnt fail to throb for her loved ones...She is the epitome of love,care and emotions.
The fact that she would wake up at 3-4 am in the night just to make you tea or that she would be your best secretkeeper or the fact that she is so efficent homemaker and so devoutly caters to every new demand of her husband or kids arent the qualities that completely and wholesomely describe what a mother is ,makes the task of writing an paean for someone who is no less than an epiphany that much more unfathomably hard.
                         When i try to see from the eyes of my mom,i see a vast expanse of emotions and a sea of unconditional energy to expend for her loved ones.The selfless eyes give nothing away but radiance that is composed of rays of care,concern,protection and pure ,godlike love.When i was a toddler and she used to play with me i must have been wideeyed,chuckling,marvelling at seeing this angel in front of me.Her whole countenance is full of life and endless pursuit to nurture.I see the whole spherical universe in her eyes,which when full of tears are nothing but the occuli of heaven.

 I want to remember how she brought me up,i want to suffer every pain that she took for me and my brother,i want to learn selfless devotion from her, i want to  take back every bad thing i did/said to her (even if unconsciously),i want to see the world through the eyes of my mother just to look whether i also look so beautiful to her as she is to me.
                As I add on few numbers in my age column, i see my mother getting old.I see the shift,i forsee the change of guard.She is the one now who needs the care,the sacrifices,the support.Though she would never say it,every mother needs her family to be there,with her.Its my turn to mother...
                    Its a honour to be a mother,for all those who are would testify that a "mother" is actually a "thermo"-meter ie the temperature regulator of a family.At hot times,during strife ,during the times a family undergoes a tough time ,she acts as a natural coolant in the engine.And she is also the fuel who burns herself unconditionally to keep her family warm and well oiled.
Her sweet voice that reminds me of the stories of the fantasyland is the connection that i have with god.When my mom takes my name,i feel that i have been granted conversation with the almightly.The diminutive avtaar of the omnipotent on the Third planet from the sun has a halo-ring on her head that filters through the maldeeds of this world and helps one to see the ethereal love that flows in our veins.
My mother taught me compassion,restraint,patience in dealing with others.She taught me to be humble and forgiving.She walked the plank with me ,supporting ,lest i fell down.She made me see goodness in people and life and to relinquish bad habits.She nestled in me the feeling of elation when someone else succeeds.
She is the mirror of my soul.When i see her,i forgive my bad deeds.I feel purged,sanctified and fearless when i think of my mother.

All these years of growing up i feel that its time that i start giving back to my mother.She has some aspirations,she has some expectations from me...I would do very well to understand all that she speaks and much more that she doesnt, and try not to fail her.But in the nutshell i fear to love her anything less than she deserves.

TO MY MOM....

You are my link to the god...I fear not if i dont worship, I fear not if i dont pay homage to the temples,mosques,altars...I fear not if i fail...
I have my mother..with me ....always...
                                                          

The Factual Surrealism...The Overt Reconnaissance...The World 'Eyjafjallajokul'ed

NATURE-Wise

I venture out.I brave the elements.I dare to look into the sun.
Thats audacity!!!Such confidence comes from purity.The venerable nature just handed out to me the greenest brochure of mother earth.Everything is so
serene,so simple,so full of life,so beautiful.The green grass invites me to have a nibble at the fresh droplets of just laden dew.The tall trees incite the bird within me to touch their apex.The dusty roads mottled by patches of overgrowth of motley of sherbs run along.The mysterious canopies of shade made by the overhanging specs of clouds waylay me as i drive.
               I drive to the gratification of senses;I drive to conquer the eclectic elements of nature;I drive to the satiation of the eternal hunger.The need ,the want of being nurtured,being pure!All my senses are crying out in
unison to come aboard.The chirps of the parakeets,the buzzz of the bees,the hoot of the peacocks are the things that will accompany me, they will be my accomplices as i prepare to venture beyond the realms of hardhitting absence of an utopia.
                    But something`s changed.The atmosphere around me suddenly turns foggy.The air becomes dramatically heavier.My vision blurred,i adjust my frame of reference.And then i see it .The monster,the satan who has taken the movie to a completely new set is visible to my tear laden eyes now.It is me!!!
                            

The human being that was being chained,restrained was somehow let loose.And now in its full venomous mood is spewing forth noxious fumes and contaminants.
Suddenly i am afraid.Suddenly i am feeling a struggle starting between my ears.Then there is this horrifying slideshow of human acts that had me repulsed and left me unhinged.I looked upon the venom spewing snake aka factories,the horror initiator claws of the sawchain cutting,the hobgoblin that is the restraint on the rivers...and i feel a shudder!!! A cold swooped down and enveloped my senses,now they are numb,they are lifeless...
                      And a volcano erupts,and a flood surges, and a earthquake rocks...The mayhem is there for display,the pandemonium is rife,the havoc is running...The entire system is crippled...a nightmare...a incubus heavy on our minds.

        My mind goes back to the nerves that were tingling and communicating when i was a youngling.The essense of being immaculate, of being virgin in your thoughts,of freedom of any compulsion to react to your environment...that smell!!! I felt aerated..the cool breeze laden with the waft of the wet earth and the salt from the ocean hitting and filling my nostrils making me feel drugged.Just looking aimlessly at the different patterns getting dynamically created among the clouds would make the clock turn 2-3 times.The overhanging clouds swelled with water,pinned on the sky as if hanged from their tail,threatening me with their imperious thunder and darkened hues would keep me in their awe.

            I miss those days of tryst with nature,being in the lap of nature leaves you pockmarked with peace.Now the dragons and the beasts of the concrete jungle are the only things that one finds and they are devouring the innocence and soul of our nature.
                                     But still all`s not lost.The actions that are reactions to our any future actions are the harbinger of the complex consequences that our nature has to face if we are not careful.So the glaring
differences between the two visions that one can have, is actually a very thin line.The brumous gap between the two extremes of beauty and the beast is narrowing and the need of the hour is to make efforts to stilt the marshes and seed the plowes.

              

Let The Match Begin ....

Roger vs Nadal :::: Rafael Vs Federer

                                                   

Match Point no 4 ...Lights fading….flashes of the cameras blinding the eyes..

A fan shouting here and there ...umpire saying "quite please"...a forehand kisses the net and another body kisses the ground at virtually the same moment in time. This was the time 2 years back at Wimbledon when Rafael Nadal kissed or rather Bit the Gentlemen's Singles Trophy at the all England lawn tennis club. When the champion shook hands with the new incumbent, all eyes were on the future of tennis. This was because nadal had proved he was no flash in the pan, he was not only the red clay cladded warrior but is  also a grasshopper that is equally adept at predating the mighty of the greens.

                        Nadal is a fantastic athlete. There are no two ways about it. The way he has pushed federer out  of his comfort zone over the years is amazing ,coz we are talking about a player that has a over 230 weeks at the top of the pile of men’s tennis. Everything you notice about nadal leaves you imagining a ambitious, inspired and a ferocious competitor. The very fact that roger was doing so superlative stuff in mens tennis once thought to be the bastion of power servers inspired the Spaniard from Mallorca to become the player that he has become.

                         When you draw a mindmap of Nadal aka 'Rafa', the very peculiar routine that he goes through before the start of the match like keeping the water bottles stacked, and while he serves like that picking of his shorts, or the guttural "VAMOS", his flexing biceps, his accoutre, his superstitions between points ,all of these are acts that release a unique energy on the court which is unmistakably contagious. His venomous forehand ,lethal slice ,baseline deep passes all coupled  with blistering speed across the court, uncanny anticipation with the sprinkles of indefatigable energy and that vicious high bouncing top spin makes for the complete treat for any tennis lover.

                       At the  completely opposite pole of the sphere of tennis artistry sits the champion. FedEx as he is called, delivers all the dreams of a fan who appreciated aesthetic beauty. He is all about grace, flow, sleekness, technique. He doesn’t has a "trying too hard" bone in his body. A complete natural, federer has over the years through his unfathomable and now fabled talent made complete no work of some of the most illustrious players of the years. The aggassies ,the peters, the hewitts all were humbled. And when i say humbled they were outclassed! Some of the patent and fearsome traits of federers game like his perfect and stinging forehand, his amazingly accurate crosscourt and down the line passes, his flick of the wrist backhand, if are on display at the start of the match ,then the opposite players know it is nothing but sound of the death knell for them. The sight of federer in full flight is like watching a pelican gracefully caressing the ocean waters while 2 inches above or like an unputdownable book that doesn’t cease to amaze. The most difficult task for fedex is to be a better player.. as there’s not much scope for it.

                                               

                                        But one thing that stands out of these two tremendous athletes is the way they carry themselves. They display all the traits of a sportsman viz  humility ,grace and respect for each other as players secondly but human beings first. They both truly represent the union of two great players by chance thrown in the same era to entertain, inspire and enthral the audience the world over. Their duel is like watching the constant human conundrum of picking one between brain and heart, neither can live while the other dies, both are perfect complement of each other and are also good friends.          

Before the advent of rafa, federer was "the federer".Unstoppable like an raging bull, he was billed to be the "untouchable" player of his era. But Rafa changed  the game and how !! He challenged the champion with skills that were at best complement to those of his foeman. Flummoxed ,vexed, outplayed ,federer seemingly wasn’t able to solve the puzzle ,he looked completely off colour; he was completely at a loss. Match after match he seemed to abdicate his ability and will to win ,giving points and  thus matches easily to even unheard of players was nothing but the stranglehold rafa had on him ,mentally and emotionally. A volcano was bubbling inside federer`s calm exteriors. He was traumatized!!, being forced to take the lower podium was never a choice for him. 
                Meanwhile rafa raged on,trampling player after player, with his seemingly inexhaustible bout of energy ,he looked like a giant the mere look and presence of whom was good enough for a talented player to throw in the towel. Winning  all that came his way, he started replicating the dominance federer displayed just 2 years ago. People hailed the new king and rightly so ..They wrote off the old veteran and very wrongly so.

                    The tears were not of joy!! They were painful!! They were of extreme disappointment!! they came from the painful experience of being second best when your are so close to being touted the all time best. But they washed away the fear, the tears at the Australian open no matter how much ridiculed by his critics world over, served him a great  purpose. They made him believe himself to be vulnerable.

                 The tide had turned, the fortunes changed, federer was back!!                                   

The great story at Roland Garros the very same year made for a romantic comeback that for a change had all fans of fedex in joy-tears. And the win at Wimbledon stamped him the greatest tag ,rounding off what was an heroic riposte and one which only he could have pulled off.                 

In no way all this time was rafa was on a slide, he was unfortunate being injured. But having watched, admired and crooned for both of them i feel the joy of watching both play to their full potential is an experience beyond thoughts. Its no use having a pressurised Roger playing against a rampaging "VAMOSed" Nadal. Neither it is any fun watching an injury hindered rafa struggling against a "Resurrected" Federer.

                                                    

I want to see Roger Federer Vs Rafael Nadal!! 

Monster Caged ...Ideology retained

The pandemonium is over.The euphoria has died down.The bird has been killed!!!!

What started as great revelry now has been reduced to petty immolation of the scapegoats.The festival sparked off with the advent of a new paradigm,the one that promised to turn the entire furniture on its head.The start was nothing short of mesmerising,with all the elements in full bloom dancing in the isle of their own pygmalionism.
                       The monster was created.The leviathan was frankenstined. It was unleashed to devour!It promised to bring mayhem ,and it did.Initially the ruckus was bearable but soon Mr hyde got better of Dr jekyll.The design failed ,it was always flawed,but now the creator who being a victim of his brinkmanship got to know of the cataclysm.
                            But as they say "excess of everything is bad", when the balloon got over its proportions ,it had to burst.But worst of all it not only burst ,but also triggered an avalanche.An avalanche of proportions best left unestimated.The snowballed misery rolled with it the aspirations,the imaginations,the wishes,the prayers and buried the same in miasma of hellish contraptions.
            The day was of the gulliotine.The neck was marked.It had crossed the trammel.Its fate was to get severed.But as the nightmares generally are ,the headless monster rolled on ,it continues to fight, throbbing away violenty,thrashing,hissing.But i am not versus the creation ,nor against the creator but against the train of thoughts that led to the inception of the evil,maybe the counterproductive process is the culprit.Who knows?
                            Who are we to dole out brickbats? what authority we have to antagonise the perpertrators?But i will still stick my neck to say that although the tradition has been to mollify the morale police ,it is imperative to not to let the emotions draw out the sap out of a sapling that gave one rotten fruit.The trick is to give the right fosterage and to sever the wrong shoot.
The fortuitous thing is that the appartchiks come and go,but the system is there is to stay.All detractors speak the same shibboleths.Its a continuous process to wilt ,but it takes only a moment to give up the ghost.
                I wonder whether its a paradox when we speak of the putrefaction in the exterior, and the purification in the interior.Just think beyond ...And u will understand the magnanimity of the opportunity that lies in interpolating the outliers....

"A Wide Angle"::::

EVOLVE IN LOVE.....



The first time i saw her was in a newspaper Ad.She had a bright smile even in an old and battered black n white photograph.But there was that smile radiating out to my eyes and laughing at my dumbness of staring at them.I couldnt get over that feeling.That stinking gut wrenching & nerve wrecking feeling called infatuation.Honestly,that day i was not feeling anything but numbness in my
heart.
                                  Her forehead shone through the parting curtains of her curly hair & her inhibitant smile shone through he photograph revealing the very kind of person that she must be: very jovial,intelligent,witty yet kind.
                  That first impression of her left me craving for more info about her.She felt like an arcane companion,that long forgotten friend ,that age old partner who you have missed all these years and who has now come to fore.
     Yet the presence of this person eludes me.What i fail to understand is why my mind and heart seeks the unknown,the uninitiated,the unlikely.Its a great puzzle as to how our heart opens up avenues which are not visible or are unfathomable to our brain.Anyways as time passed by unaware of the festering longing within me ,i started anticipating a chancely meeting.The way the heart works is that it drags you down the abyss of fantasies which show their ugly head intermittently and renders one useless.The way the mind works is that it makes you believe that your only motto in life is not to fall for these fantasies and be practical which again leaves one overworked without any incentive and in all practicality useless!
                                     So i figured it out how to strike perfect balance between these two evilmongers.Never think too much about your mind,let it be..and never be too caring about how your heart feels ..let it be ...So i havent relinquished the idea that this girl can be the perfect match to my life but i am neither living in daydreams building air castles.To me love is not a strange phenomenon ,its just a unexplained one.Its like the question about life and death ..how one feels like after death ...but when one is dead ..death is unexpained...similarly till the time love is not part of your life it remains an enigma..a strange feeling of light ethereal rain that just carasses you without touching you ,a strange zephyr that gives you gooseflesh ,a beautiful serenade dream that is best left tethered to the chains of your sleep.
So i have allowed my heart to flutter for this special lass but only on the condition that it doesnt cross the realms of my influence.I am sure for many out there its the test of patience to not to give up on one thing in lieu of other but believe me life is willing to give you the complete basket of goodies spruced  up with additional paraphernalia.